


there is always sunshine in my heart

by heartattacked



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Camping, M/M, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:56:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27660344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartattacked/pseuds/heartattacked
Summary: after learning chihiro has both a driver’s license and a car, he's forced by a certain group of idiots to take a short yet sour winter road trip. it’s a lot like babysitting, but for free.
Relationships: Akashi Seijuurou/Nijimura Shuuzou, Kuroko Tetsuya/Mayuzumi Chihiro
Comments: 6
Kudos: 15





	there is always sunshine in my heart

**Author's Note:**

> hewwo, long time no see :}
> 
> i know it's never a good sign for a fic if the author is ratting on it asap but...i wasn't intending to publish this since i wasn't fond of how it turned out n don't have it in me to fix it up :( but i'm making a big move in mid-december and probably won't have a chance to finish my new project (nijiaka, coffee shop au, hehe) before the new year, so i wanted to push this out anyway to say hello and wish everyone a happy end to 2020.
> 
> this fic is a follow-up of sorts to my last 2 fics, but can be read alone i think :') thx

"akashi-kun," kuroko smiles, climbing into the car. "how are you?"

"i'd rather let the events of today unfold before committing to a particular emotion. though, i hope you are doing well."

"yep," mayuzumi reaches up to adjust the heater. "that's akashi for you."

☁

mayuzumi scratches the surface for new places. old in the new, new in the old—his bloodline. he would rather bleed out and stop caring, but he sort of even stopped caring about that.

unfortunately, new places are hard to come by, and the freshest and most rejuvenating place in the world is next to akashi seijuurou.

and dead of winter, is when akashi decides to uproot him even further. he has several things to rub in their faces: his newly acquired winter cup victory (respected), his anxiety medication (working), and the fact that his friend not only can drive but has a car big enough to fit several high school basketball students. a win-win-win, for akashi.

mayuzumi drives with his hood up.

“not sure how this is going to go worse than what i’m imagining but i know it will. i’m going to leave you stranded in the mountains, mark my words.”

akashi smiles, runs his fingers over the seat belt. he never gets to sit in the front seat.

“you're being melodramatic, chihiro. i don’t blame you for it though. i used to be a bad influence.”

mayuzumi glowers.

“my bad attitude is my _own_ choice, thanks. don't credit yourself. and why are we doing this again?”

akashi merely says, “i've been feeling more like myself lately.”

he isn’t sure when he took on the role of akashi’s _best_ friend. mayuzumi graduated high school and for some reason they continued to cross paths in cafes and libraries, akashi sticking his toes into the depths of okatu culture in his first trip to comiket for seemingly no reason other than mayuzumi asking him to go along. while he still can’t stand japanese pop music, he allows mayuzumi to play his anime soundtracks at full volume on the drive to tokyo.

“that’s a shitty reason."

☁

“that’s a range rover,” nijimura says, lowly.

“really? i don’t know much about cars but i believe his family is quite wealthy.”

nijimura leans against the wood panels of the seven-eleven, face in mourning.

“no wonder you liked him; peas of the same pod.”

akashi furrows his brows.

“i told you. i never _liked_ him, we spent a lot of time together—am i not allowed to have friends?”

“just keeping my competition in check.”

“there is no _competition,_ idiot _._ ”

akashi stands there for another moment, watching mayuzumi mess with the gasoline pump while kuroko swings his legs out the open door, counting yen. the two don’t look at each other. akashi brushes by nijimura swiftly, into the warmer convenient store, not expecting to be followed so _firmly_.

nijimura pushes ahead, walking him back against the stale, plaster-white wall with threatening eyes. akashi nearly finds himself intimated, but remembers this the same person who plays table tennis for fun.

“who are you?”

akashi huffs through a laugh, shoving through his boyfriend, into the aisles.

“nijimura-san, studying for exams must be getting to you.”

“you just walked into a convenient store. _walked into one_. i’m supposed to think everything is fine and dandy? you aren’t having an early-life crisis?”

“would you get a basket, please?”

nijimura wearily heads back to the entrance, comes back to have akashi drop an armory of candies and sodium-filled plastic bags into the basket.

“this should be enough," he says, looking around. "what’s the best drink?”

“tonyu—the hazelnut one. wait, who’s this for?”

“well, it’s mostly incentive.”

☁

“mayuzumi-san, the music is a bit loud.”

“akashi, did you hear that?”

akashi turns his gaze from the window, niigata coming up on the horizon, mountains starting to glaze with snow.

“what?”

“ _mayuzumi-san_.”

“there it is again,” mayuzumi clicks his tongue, feigning fright. “i think there's a ghost in the car.”

“chihiro, really now.”

akashi gracefully shuts the music off. in the quiet, the sizzling between an aggressive kuroko and a smug mayuzumi is audible. akashi looks in the rear-view mirror from the passenger seat, training his eyes past the cloud of blue hair to the back row, where nijimura lays across the leather with a frown, holding a textbook above his head and a pen in his mouth.

mayuzumi sees this too, and can’t be bothered to scoff.

sado island, off the coast of niigata, is a gold mine, literally. mayuzumi parks off the coast of the city and they take the ferry, at kuroko’s request. kuroko poses happily with the posterine clay figures made to mimic the worker of when the mines were active, something that makes mayuzumi feel homesick for his bed and animal crossing, and they all stare at akashi wide-eyed handing over a credit card to the merchandise booth. he hands them each a penny size chuck of gold. _souvenirs,_ he says, like he’s done a good deed. mayuzumi pockets it, bored.

as the sun hits it’s highest point and descends, they go back inland. the temperature drops a bit, sky going overcast. akashi and kuroko lean off the rails of the parking lot, chilled breeze lightening their cheeks. mayuzumi does scoff, at that.

“what’s your deal?” asks nijimura, falling against the car door.

“my _deal_?” mayuzumi turns, zipping his duffel bag shut, one rice ball lighter. “what’s that mean?”

“with akashi."

mayuzumi snickers.

“feeling threatened, big boy?”

nijimura seems to resist the urge to put him in a choke hold. he grits out, “i’m just curious.”

“just curious? you’re more like an alpha type, right? protecting your territory and all that. you do seem more like a tits kinda guy, so i get it.”

nijimura flushes. “excuse me?”

“you’re afraid it’ll put you off. that’s why you won’t…you know, put _out_.”

“he told you that?”

“now you’re really feeling insecure, huh?” mayuzumi laughs.

“listen—”

“okay,” akashi steps around the car, putting his hands between them. “you’re both irrevocably in love with me, nothing to fight about,” and he climbs inside.

akashi thinks it’s funny, mayuzumi knows. everything is funny to akashi these days. he lives life like the chip on his shoulder never existed. it does exist, still, but he covers it up well wearing his heart there instead. when he gets his chance to recollect things, mayuzumi pretends he doesn’t see it as well.

they stop in a small town called murakami, to take more photos, calms waves on a quiet shoreline. akashi pulls nijimura's arm, to behind the car while kuroko channels his inner tourist and mayuzumi tries not to jump off the cliff side.

“why are you so…pressed?” akashi says, arms around his neck and chin tipped up. “if i knew you were going to be so _alpha_ i may have not invited you.”

nijimura pinches his eyebrows. akashi laughs at him.

“i just don’t like him. i haven't liked him ever since—"

akashi grins and pulls his head down, stepping back towards the metal of the trunk.

“you’ll survive. it’s you i want anyway.”

(thank god for that, nijimura thinks.)

“yeah. he’s just…hot and loud.”

“sounds like someone i know. hot and hotheaded.”

“he has something on me.”

akashi pouts.

“want to know a secret?”

“yeah.”

"—"

(nijimura takes that opening and puts his mouth over akashi’s, pressing him between the door and his chest, finding that perfect angle. they’ve had their ups and downs with intimacy. it’s the big brother in him telling him to be gentle, the upperclassman in him making sure he stays humble, the patience that he grew over years of learning how to lose somebody. it’s the fact that nijimura is still learning to not see akashi as a kid. there’s a learning curve.)

“hm,” akashi breaks, lips resting on nijimura’s chin. “get in the car.”

“ _akashi_ —”

“i know, i know. just for a second.”

in the back seat, akashi kisses him senseless. the windows are blacked out but mayuzumi isn’t stupid.

☁

most winters begin with rainy days, lines blurry between december and january as the temperatures ease down one drop at a time, oak leaves painted orange washing down the gutters of city streets, ice crystals taking their place. all the sudden the year is over and you can’t go outside without a coat.

mayuzumi spent a decent amount of his childhood tuning violins to dragon ball z in the background. most stories begin with a witness. there hadn’t been anyone there to see his, until recently.

in the student greenhouse, on the farside of yosen academy, temperature-controlled walls with heavy insulation keeps projects growing all year around. snow piles on the roof, melts within minutes, keeping sunlight shining through. this doesn’t change the fact that akita receives some of the highest snowfall in the world, something akashi notes as they pull into the guest parking, surrounded by the linings of a snow canyon.

“the _hell_ ,” mayuzumi whispers, stepping out on the pavement. he minds his footing, but the ground is well salted.

akashi laughs outright, staring at the front gates.

“akita is known for sunflowers,” kuroko says offhand.

“aka-chin,” murasakibara waves, face hidden away behind fluttering leaves. he shouts, “food.”

mayuzumi knocks akashi in the shoulder. “what does he mean. food? when you said we would have a chef this isn’t what i pictured.”

“i trust him.”

“he’s a seven foot tall _baby_.”

“a very talented one."

himuro trails behind, also clutching the thick green stalk of a mammoth helianthus close to his chest. they even tower over murasakibara, a testament to their height, yellow petals dangling over their heads like tiny suns. they look ridiculously heavy.

“those aren’t going to fit in the car,” kuroko points out.

“just tie them to the roof. just…just do it. it’s so freaking cold, hurry up.”

“akashi-san,” himuro quips. “i heard shuu was coming?”

akashi looks up. sometimes, mayuzumi thinks, akashi is a lion. other times, he finds himself more in the family of wild cranes, the majestic breeds that line the lakes of north japan, the kinds that saturate the market of old myths, legends—which is to say, sometimes his feathers get ruffled.

“he is…in the car. studying.”

“ah, studying even on a trip? he must be very dedicated to have come along, then.”

akashi blinks. himuro hands his pedical over to murasakibara, who easily slides them over the rooftop. mayuzumi helps to anchor them in place.

“well, he wants to attend a university.”

“oh, not to school.” himuro shrugs, chuckling. “to you.”

☁

hakodate digs itself out of the hills like a carved statue appears from a block of stone. they pay an hour at showa-ji and a quiet, homespun restaurant before finding the bus to the trails. the trails taper out into snow-dampened forest, rocky steps down to the campsite, a clearing of trees giving way to the lakeside. by the time they drop their bags onto the ground, their hands are frozen, heat packs worn.

“we made it.”

“akashi, i hate you so much,” says mayuzumi, huffing warmer air into curled fists. “i’m never going anywhere with you ever again.”

nijimura mutters, _good_.

“you knew where we were going.”

“everything is _frozen_.”

“then you better start construction,” akashi says, smiling, while sitting down on a log and kicking a tent roll towards him. this simple act pisses mayuzumi off in a way that can only be described as blood boiling and he, metaphorically, steams.

akashi’s builders build their tiny, polyurethane village of three tents and a fire pit within the hour, sun still lingering in the sky as he kicks holes in the snow down to the dirt. if a kingdom could be this, he would rule it content for the rest of his life.

☁

_“someone should get firewood. driftwood by the lake would probably work,” himuro suggests, hooking up a makeshift cauldron over the fire pit._

_“i can go,” mayuzumi says._

_“you shouldn’t go alone. you could get eaten.”_

“very helpful. if we get attacked by bears, _i’ll_ be the one protecting _you_.”

kuroko closes his eyes, dismayed. maybe if he can’t see mayuzumi, he won’t exist.

“mayuzumi-san, it’s not that funny.”

“never said it was funny. i’m going to end up dying and having to hang out with a ghost following me around for the rest of existence. it’s not funny at all.”

“…you’re very obnoxious.”

“maybe i just don’t like you.”

“it seems like you don’t really like anyone but yourself.”

they climb the barely-there dirt path up a winding hillside, ice crunching under their feet. kuroko tries to tune into the sounds of creaking, naked branches overhead, the occasional whistle of a wood wren or scurrying momonga. this is a place kuroko would love to take in, to exist in the cold and be just a small piece in the moving clockwork of the world. the lakeside comes into view, but the path becomes steeper, wood stairs emerging.

“something wrong with that?”

“no.”

“don’t try to be civil, i’m not mature enough for that. i thought i was, but it’s way easier to not be.”

“you just push everyone else away.”

“i like being alone,” he shrugs.

“so i do, sometimes, but it’s nice to have others to rely on, every now and then.”

“hate to break it to you,” mayuzumi bites, heaving himself up the steps, holding loosely to passing trees with black gloved fingers. “but we didn’t all have a warm, fuzzy time playing basketball. some of us got fucking neglected until we were needed, and still ignored even then. surely if you’re that smart, you can see why i would rather keep to myself.”

mayuzumi looks back to kuroko, finds himself genuinely taken aback by the big, sad eyes staring up at him, dripping from his expression like honey.

“yeah, don’t pretend to be upset. you hated me from the first moment you met me.”

“i never hated you, mayuzumi-san. i was frustrated. it’s not the same thing.”

the path evens out ahead, descending down to onamu lake. it’s huge, practically spread from horizon to horizon, but the other side of the lake, the plateau and more hills, stares at them in fog over the icy silver water. below, the shoreline is rocky and sharp. the path fades away, only pebbles to take them down. sure enough though, kuorko could make out piles of dried out branches.

“you were jealous. and jealously comes from selfishness. must’ve felt so special in middle school, being the only one of your kind. and then suddenly you weren’t so special anymore. i would hate me too.”

kuroko doesn’t speak for a moment. rocks shudder under them as they walk.

“you have an awful tendency to treat real life like a novel. like i said, i don’t hate you. i wouldn’t want you to hate yourself.”

“and yet if i love myself, that’s a problem?”

“i only think you’re deluding yourself. there is a such a thing as _liking_ yourself too much. so much that you can’t stand others.”

“i can stand plenty of people,” mayuzumi remarks, jumping the last few steps to the pebbly sand. “i stand akashi, which like, one percent of all people can do. but i can’t stand you. so maybe don’t flatter yourself so much. some people might find that annoying.”

kuroko bites his lip. his cheeks are turning red, he can feel it, and not from the sudden waterside winds.

“you probably think you’re so good at hiding your emotions. maybe to everyone else you are, but me? nah, i see right through the bullshit. at least i don’t try to cover mine up.”

“some of us have had character development in the last year. i don’t try to cover up my emotions anymore.”

mayuzumi laughs. “you didn’t win any trophies this year either.”

kuroko reaches down, the elevation still uneven enough to put kuroko above mayuzumi. he grabs his shirt sleeves, hauling him upward.

“mayuzumi-san."

mayuzumi’s eyes are very gray.

they stare at each other, unstoppable force and immovable object.

mayuzumi finally responds as kuroko loosens his grip, stepping back.

“woah, you scared me.”

“stop being so…self deprecating. maybe akashi-kun puts up with it, and maybe that’s why you put with with akashi-kun, but i’m here right now. maybe you should adapt to being with others for now.”

mayuzumi’s scowl returns. he turns, separating himself entirely to start digging through driftwood.

“you know, we’re not the same. if you think how i feel about myself mirrors how i feel about _you_ , you’re wrong. i don’t dislike myself, nor am i obsessed with myself. i just know my place. that’s all. not everything is so fucking _deep_.”

kuroko plays pick and choose with mayuzumi’s comments, irking him even more.

“you don’t want to rise above that? to prove akashi-kun wrong?”

“he’s never wrong.”

kuroko shakes his head, joining mayuzumi on flat grounds.

“he can be…blind, though, at times. akashi-kun…is wonderful, but dense. and tunnel visioned. i know you see the world with a much wider view. it’s why he picked you.”

mayuzumi tosses a glare to him, rooted in a disdain so loud it nearly resounds in kuroko’s core.

“if you’re trying to get me to _like_ you, i _don’t_. and i _won’t_. leave it alone.”

he turns his back away. there’s a delay where no footsteps follow, but when mayuzumi does hear the crackling of pebbles again, he manages to catch a breathy whisper, “you’re so serious, mayuzumi-san.”

they gather driftwood, armfuls of it, in a hesitant silence for a half hour or so. kuroko carefully digs through the closer piles, searching for the perfect size and width, breaking them into smaller pieces to carry. he pockets a pebble or two, the shiny kinds with interesting streaks of color and stories to tell. the sun sits low on the horizon as the day dwindles to an end. kuroko wonders if he crossed a line, but he’s never been scared of crossing lines before.

“that’s enough,” mayuzumi speaks. “we should get back before sunset and start the fire.”

of course, up on the path, kuroko would misplace his footing on a particularly iced over patch, unable to see properly. he collapses forward, a sharp pain running the length of his arm as wood scatters under him.

“ _hey_ ,” mayuzumi rushes back, dropping his pile in as neat of a pile as he could before crouching down.

“i’m fine,” kuroko rips away, speaking in that dead way that he does. it’s freakier like that. “don’t touch me.”

“you’re fucking bleeding.”

“then i’ll bleed out on my own, thank you.”

“shut the hell up, take your goddamn shoe off.”

kuroko does, and mayuzumi does things in the idealized way he prefers, wrapping up the scrape on his ankle with his own white, feather scarf. luckily, it looks mostly like a flesh wound, and mayuzumi spends the next few minutes cursing as his tries to recollect and carry all the wood back as kuroko wobbles behind him, back to the campsite.

mayuzumi descends the last of the hill, halting.

“woah,” he bites.

kuroko catches mayuzumi’s line of sight, following it to where a makeshift camp has been set up, the fire pit awaiting fire, to the pair tangled up on the logs gathered. they aren’t kissing, not doing anything remotely worth blushing over. just limbs crossing over, content to press into each other, under the impression that no one is looking. the yosen pair are missing.

“mayuzumi-san, maybe we can go back to the lake. take a swim.”

“scared of akashi?”

kuroko smiles roughly. “a little.”

“so honest.”

“he will be so embarrassed he may not ever speak to me again.”

“ _yo!”_ mayuzumi shouts. “get the fire started or we’re gonna freeze to death!” he sets out forward.

akashi’s head shoots up, eyes betraying him. he tries to scoot back as nijimura attempts to hold him close, causing the two to look at each other bewildered. akashi shoves him away, standing up, brushing nonexistent dust off himself.

“chihiro,” he says in that ridiculous kitten-esque displeased tone. “go take a shower.”

“showers are open?”

“yes, i told you there are facilities close by. stop complaining.”

mayuzumi, like a kid dismissed from his chores, disappears in heartbeat.

kuroko wobbles forward.

“akashi-kun, do we have a first aid kit?”

“what? are you hurt?”

“great,” nijimura says, setting up the fire. “an hour in and we’re already dying.”

“it’s just a scrape, on my leg.”

akashi looks down at nijimura, innocently. “well, do we have a first aid kit?”

nijimura huffs, squinting. “we do. murasakibara and himuro are bringing the rest of the bags from the car. you should go clean up too and we can wrap it up later. don’t worry about it, kid.”

“thank you senpai. oh, akashi-kun, here.” kuroko reaches into his shirt pocket, handing something shiny white over, a blue streak running through the center. “i found this. it reminds me of you. also, it was free.”

akashi grins, but not really.

“i’ll treasure it, kuroko.”

☁

mayuzumi built plenty of transparent walls in the past, confident that not one person would dare spend a penny of their time to try to figure him out. akashi spends more than a penny. he spends fortunes and gold mines to enter his exhibits. akashi comes inside and looks out. it’s something he holds over mayuzumi’s head, not threateningly, but kindly, and it’s irritating.

akashi doesn’t have any walls. here’s a new place, across from akashi and a lilac-colored giant.

“aka-chin, sit.”

akashi takes the spot next to murasakibara (and subsequently his idol-looking friend), hair tied up high, bare hands spotted red from the cold as he handles the sunflowers.

“how can i help?”

“her _eee_. we’re deflowering.”

there’s a choking sound from behind that akashi chooses to ignore.

“that’s not the right word for that, atsushi.”

“don’t care.”

murasakibara leans down, grabbing the other flustered flower. he has a parring knife in between his thumb and forefinger, cutting through the base, discarding the bulk and handing akashi the flower head. akashi holds out both hands to receive it and sets the hefty thing down on his legs, crossed out in front of him, as though it were a crown. that is to say, he treats anything important to his friends as important to himself.

murasakibara gives him vague but sure enough instructions that akashi can do it on his own, not having to watch as murasakibara works on his own. akashi picks the petals one by one (it’s impossible to get the childish saying out of his head. _love me, love me not, love me…)._ he scrubs the disc-flowers from the head until it’s a naked, ugly colored mass in front of them.

“okay, g _imee.”_

akashi smiles, handing it over. murasakibara lays it gently in the pot, quietly sparkling with flames underneath. he drizzles a bottle of oil inside, reaching into his backpack on the ground, pulling out a black pouch. he unfolds it, reaching inside the various pockets, adding a pinch of each. akashi curls over, watching.

“what is that?”

“i use it at school. different spices. herbs.”

“you’re getting quite studious these days, murasakibara-kun.”

“i don’t study…just for fun.”

the sun sets without anyone noticing. nijimura sets up the heat generator close to the tents, and they go one at a time to take showers. by the time they’re all there, at the fire, murasakibara has pulled the roasted sunflowers from the fire and scraped the seeds clean from the core, setting them out for everyone.

“have you ever camped before?” nijimura asks, blanket huddled around him.

“never.”

“you’ve never? then why'd you want to so bad?"

“i don’t know. it seemed like fun. i wanted to do something new,” akashi considers. “with my favorite people.”

mayuzumi spits out, coughing, " _huh?"_

“i would consider you all my favorite people. well, himuro-san, i don’t know you well, but you and murasakibara-kun are conjoined at this point, so please take no offense.”

“ha, of course…”

☁

sleeping arrangements are made with no consideration on mayuzumi’s part. two and two and…two.

“kuroko, turn around.”

“…what? i am.”

mayuzumi sighs, nudging his face further into the lousy excuse for a pillow. he knows for a fact that akashi bought these tent kits from nitori on sale. cheap sake.

“it feels like you’re staring at me.”

“i am not.”

for a few moments, they shuffle, quietly like two ghosts do. kuroko’s presence feels so heavy, it’s hard to believe either one of them have no presence to the others. outside, mayuzumi can softly hear the others working their way into tents as well.

“are you in college, mayuzumi-san?”

“of course i am.”

“do you play basketball?”

“why…would i do that?”

“because…it’s…nevermind. for some reason, i thought you may not have gone to college. you didn’t seem to enjoy high school very much.”

“well, shit. i don’t have any reason to complain,” he says, groggy. “perfect childhood, big house, rich parents, fancy schools. i don’t love it. what else would i do?”

“i don’t know,” kuroko mumbles.

“that’s helpful, thanks.”

“mayuzumi…san…” kuroko hesitates, walking the line of sleep and consciousness. “it may not be my place to ask, but did you and akashi-kun really…”

mayuzumi chuckles, a tired, frightening sound from where he’s buried.

“nah, he never liked me like that.”

“i see.”

“you think they’re making out?”

kuroko suddenly chokes, setting upright on his elbow.

“i swear, couples are so hard to travel with. every trip is a honeymoon to them.”

kuroko lays back down, disgruntled, “you’re hard to travel with, i think.”

but mayuzumi won’t be shaken. he thought kuroko was just a phantom, the one they made him out to be. but he’s louder, brighter, speaks like he’s right. it’s terrible, how egotistical that is, but mayuzumi knows it would be hypocritical for him to say that. he also knows he has a bad tendency of lying to himself. kuroko is also that type…the type to pay entrance to his open, welcoming doors. but they’re too similar, mayuzumi reminds himself. shadows shouldn’t mingle.

☁

nijimura climbs into the tent, huddled in a coat but fingers warm thanks to the heater outside; he crawls over akashi, just a redheaded poof under the blankets, arms holding a book high over his head.

“what’re you reading.”

“nothing, it’s boring, especially now that you’re here,” akashi drops the book, pages fluttering against the ground next to him, rolling to face nijimura, who settles down next to him inside the cot. “it’s not so bad, with the heater. i can already feel it.”

“yeah,” nijimura scooches closer, fitting his arm under akashi’s head. “shit, i forgot. i wanted to take you outside one more time. overcast all day but it’s cleared up. the full moon is pretty. i thought we would go down to the lake real quick. but…” akashi looks up at him with shiny eyes. “i can tell there’s no way i’m getting out of here.”

“i hate being cold. besides, a midnight date, that’s cheesy."

nijimura snickers.

akashi notes, “your cheeks are so pink.” he thumbs nijimura’s jawline, fingers caressing the chill-bit skin of his cheekbones.

“oh, shut up. i can make your cheeks pink too, kid.”

and nijimura does—kiss him, sweetly, mindlessly, just how akashi likes.

☁

winter mornings are usually defined by deadlines and walking to school, brain fogged and eyes drooping. crisp, early air in the woods brings a new, refreshing element to kuroko, staring eye to eye with mayuzumi outside the tent, confusion etched in his visage.

“your bedhead is ridiculous.”

“so is yours, mayuzumi-san. good morning.”

“good mornings don’t exist. actually, neither do it. for all intents, i don’t exist.”

“then i’ll have no problem ignoring your critical comments. thank you for your consideration to my feelings.”

“yeah, fuck off.”

but neither of them are immune to the smells of breakfast cooking on the fire.

hot pepper soup, soft tofu ladled in gingerly, lemongrass and enoki mushrooms bubbling at the surface. the smell is radiant and murasakibara sits there stirring with little interest, eyes closed in a long, heavy blink.

himuro waves to them, blacks-ilk hair perfectly paper straight over beaming eyes, smile like an idol’s radiating toward them. mayuzumi thinks of putting on sunglasses.

“breakfast is ready!”

“attractive people gross me out,” mayuzumi mutters.

kuroko looks at him, blank face. “have you see yourself, mayuzumi-san?”

“i don’t want to hear the rest of what you want to say. hey,” he says freshly. “where’s the meat?”

“aka-chin gave me orders.”

mayuzumi sighs, heaving himself down on their makeshift sofa (a log). “the rest of us eat meat.”

“…he wouldn’t have been happy.”

himuro chuckles, patting him on the arm. “it’s alright atsushi. it’s healthier.”

the last tent unzips from the inside; nijimura crawls out, zips it back up.

“he’s a late sleeper, it’ll be a while.”

kuroko nods. “he always was. at least we don’t have to run five miles, like in middle school.”

“i would run, if anyone wants to go.”

“you’re much more motivated these days, murasakibara-kun,” kuroko smiles.

murasakibara shrugs listlessly, ladling soup from the pot into paper bowls.

nijimura shuffles over on icy, twig-laden dirt. “if we’re hiking komagatake, might as well run five miles.”

☁

hours rain by with a lightness akin to feathers. cranes litter the lakeside, eight bit music filters from mayuzumi’s video game as he lets an overexcited himuro make the drive, and komagatake is a pillow in the land made of snow. not too steep, not too crowded, wide enough to circle around for hours on foot mesmerized by grasses covered in ice laden flowers and scurrying animals through the brush. blue sky towers over them, sunlight turning white rock under their feet into a crystal ball. mayuzumi stays in the car, terraforming.

murasakibara plucks tiny flowers to plant behind his ears, and when they sit to eat snacks, he braids a crown.

the cold bites but feels bearable next to akashi, a red warmth on the snow they seem knee deep in. it’s peaceful because it’s not supposed to be anything other than that. there’s nothing like an overcast sky budding into azure as sun hit its peak, nothing like how it is in tokyo with a slight haze of dirty air over everything. akashi throws the first snowball, and the prickling air that fills nijimura’s lungs says everything. there’s freshness in the way akashi enjoys this kind of thing now, _can_ let himself. he sort of wants to stay here forever, even though it’s cold. he would love to build a fort of ice and pay rent, wait for summer to unveil the fields underneath, the lilies that span for a hundred miles.

“what are you doing back so soon?”

“i was getting lightheaded. i guess the elevation is high here. they’re still hiking but we talked about going back to the restaurant from yesterday later.”

mayuzumi falls back against the seat, sighing.

“i should have known not to come.”

“mayuzumi-san, please just play your game and relax. it’s not that deep.”

☁

they get along well enough. the roadmap of mayuzumi’s life never included any pit stops at kuroko tetsuya station but he swears he won’t let it bother him; it’s just a pit stop after all. or it is until they light the fire that night.

_“kuroko.”_

_“yes, akashi-kun, i’m trying.”_

_the silence grows, ticking down to kuroko swearing, a rarity._

_“the lighter is broken.”_

_“it’s nearly freezing and you’re telling us the lighter is broken?”_

_“akashi-kun, i have no control over this.”_

_himuro cuts in, not unkindly. “someone can run to the shop in town then. atsushi, maybe we can—”_

_“mmmmtired.”_

_himuro’s hopeful glance turns sour._

_“rock, paper, scissors then?”_

“are you kidding me.”

“there was no joke.”

mayuzumi starts the engine.

they’d walked together, for the better part of an hour, back to the parking lot. at some point, it began to snow. lightly, but enough to filter up their field of vision and pillow on their eyelashes. a calm snow, but the sky still flourished into a grey sea of blanketing clouds, temperatures beginning to drop with the setting sun.

finally they crack the car doors open, huddling inside breathlessly. mayuzumi gets the heater going, and kuroko says, “i hope the weather gets better. it wasn’t supposed to snow this weekend.”

“it’s the fucking middle of winter.”

“…still, akashi-kun is never wrong, and he saw the forecast.”

“even akashi can’t control the weather.”

“well, it’s not the end of the world,” kuroko says, snuggling back into the seat, white coat and ashy hair starkly bright against the black interior. mayuzumi had gotten this car two years ago as a pre-graduation gift from his parents. they had it imported from the states. mayuzumi had kissed girls in this car and chauffeured the most annoying kid in the universe around kyoto in this car and never fucking crashed this car. kuroko’s whiteness against the dark makes mayuzumi nearly shake. he knows that’s not healthy; he shouldn’t let one little kid inconvenience his peace of mind that much.

mayuzumi pulls out of their spot on the side of the road, making the u-turn back to town. kuroko turns the heat down, air quieting between them.

“turn it back on.”

kuroko shuffles. “it’s too warm.”

“take your freaking coat off.”

“it’s comfortable.”

“well i’m _not_.”

kuroko turns the heat back up, closing the vents closest to him. he side eyes mayuzumi, who’s eyes are trailed on the road ahead, winding slow around the hillside.

“is there a particular reason you’re always angry?”

mayuzumi wants to scream out ("you are not welcome here. not okay to follow me like my own shadow does, to take up the corners of my rooms or sift through my boxes. my marketplace closed down long ago, when i decided being alone was preferable to selling his pity cards. i finally found some pocket of content, and maybe it was because of you, but you aren’t welcome to dip near my off brand constellation like a name brand comet. closed for business.")

“i’m feeling peachy, don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“mayuzumi-san, i apologize for asking but i really have to know—did you like akashi-kun? or do you?”

“i’m about to describe in great detail how i’m going to end your life, kuroko.”

“so you are angry.”

mayuzumi taps the breaks, paved road bleeding into rocky terrain at the park entrance.

“in case you haven’t noticed, i try to live in the most obscure, uneventful way possible. i don’t _have_ a tolerance for annoying shit. but oh no, you just have to rub your fingers over everything because everything is a clue or a cover up to you. that’s annoying as hell.”

“unfortunately that’s true. mystery novels are my favorite genre.”

mayuzumi blinks.

“what happened to not treating real life like a book?”

“i prefer happy endings and no lose ends. maybe i do overextend myself sometimes.”

_is that fucking so,_ mayuzumi thinks.

“akashi thinks i’m his friend. that’s all there is to it.”

“are you angry because…maybe you wanted him to see you for what you are, rather than what he wants you to be?”

“and what does he want me to be, do tell.”

“a friend.”

mayuzumi shoots his eyes over.

“you are fearless, aren’t you?” he mutters.

“why would i be scared, mayuzumi-san? are you going to kick me out and let me freeze to death in the mountains? or will you smother me with a pillow while i’m sleeping tonight? either way you have a seriously messed up mindset.”

“i let akashi do whatever the hell he wants. if he wants to follow me around like a stray kitten with freaking bumble bee eyes at everything, like he’s never been inside an arcade or a movie theater before, that’s his problem. i came with akashi because he…” his clicks his tongue, hesitating. “because i owe him.”

“owe him for what?”

“none of your business, that’s for sure. let me drive and stop psychoanalyzing everything.”

he would never be able to say it. be able to say to anyone what really happens. that he lost his cool one fateful night last year, smothering out akashi’s words with his mouth with a fistful of his shirt, the insides of him nuclear reacting. that there was nothing in him but gratitude for the one who didn’t try to break down his walls, didn’t see him for the part of himself he feels comfortable showing the general public but for the parts he doesn’t even let _himself_ see. gratitude for the one who keeps tabs on his daily life like it’s the most interesting thing in the world and the one who doesn’t treat his likes and dislikes like weapons to insult him. the one who forgot and forgave, the one who never liked him anyway.

“mayuzumi-san, you drove past the shop.”

“ _shit_.”

☁

mayuzumi tosses the bag in the general direction of the group, like some poor man's flower toss, and nijimura catches it in midair. the boyfriend of boyfriends scowls at him and turns back to the campsite, eager to either get warm or get away from...

mayuzumi looks at akashi, who is delightfully oblivious as always.

"he really doesn't like me."

"well," akashi says. "you stole my first kiss, mayuzumi-san. he'll never forgive you for that."

but akashi grins at him, and mayuzumi lets the irk get under his skin. it's rare that akashi bothers paying his entrance fee.

☁

dynamite love. love lines. sunshine pouring off akashi’s heart. for the first time in a long time, he is conscious of his heart. it’s warm, orange, the color of the ceramic stone vase that holds his mother’s ashes. there no are ashes inside his heart. akashi’s heart, if you knocked it over, something like buckwheat or rice flour would pour out, sickly sweet and the color of the stones in his palms. his palms, turned outward, to the sun. tiny things, objective items, that carry all the happiness in the world, that he now has access to whenever his whims desire.

“i was thinking,” akashi starts, fingers twisting. “that these days i’m trying to enjoy the peace of everything. isn’t there so much disorder everywhere? for a long time, i thought i was the cause of it all.”

nijimura doesn’t speak, because akashi looks very far away, like he’s the rising sun, just a projection of light there on the sand.

“i thought i would never have peace in my life. so the peaceful moments that occur now, the quiet times, or moments where i could push myself to be more than i am, i’m trying to be the least important person in the room.”

“this trip was chaotic as hell.”

akashi smiles, a lightness in his shoulders and eyes as he breathes. “i don’t think so. i enjoyed being with my favorite people.”

“kuroko and mayuzumi are like, arch enemies out of a movie.”

akashi nods, somehow reluctant to add anything but keeps his light composure.

“they made up, to an extent. it will be better if they get along.”

nijimura realizes something, jaw dropping as he leans back on his hands. it’s not so much a revaluation as putting together the final pieces of a puzzle.

“you’re taking responsibility. you want them to get along so you forced them to be together for three days. you absolute villain, akashi. you wanted peace, sure.”

akashi keeps smiling.

“they’ll be friends one day. i know it. most people think they’re very similar, but they’re actually quite different from each other. once chihiro works through his issues, they’ll get along.”

“this you trying to clean up your mess?”

akashi pulls his lips inward, cheeky tone, “maybe. maybe it was just fate. but i do feel bad for making them dislike each other.”

“alright, alright. enough about peace and fate and _whatever_ , this was supposed to be a date.”

“well, if you blow out enough of these candles for it to be safe, you can come kiss me.”

“i don’t think i want to date a supervillain, actually.”

“ _shuuzou_ ,” akashi whines, gracefully beginning to pinch out flames all the while.

akashi, lackadaisical like a garden fairy, falling loose in pieces atop nijimura’s torso, knees digging into rocks, gripping his shirt tight as though he may crumble apart, laughter in love lines spewing from the rays of the sun. it's all in the guidebook.


End file.
